A Crown Few Kings Enjoy
by Nip
Summary: Politics are no fun Pip decides. But duty is duty and there is no way she can escape becoming the steward of Renselaeus someday. Throw in the great grandson of the famed King Vidanric and there is no way Pip is not thoroughly miserable. Sigh...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclamer**: Yes, this story takes place in a land made up by the excellent Sherwood Smith. Yes, I know this means the place names, titles and some of the customs are not mine, so please know that too. I would also like to apologize for borrowing said place names, titles and customs, as I certainly will not put them to the use they were created for as I am not the excellent Sherwood Smith. However, I hope she forgives me for playing with a few of her creations, and I hope you enjoy reading this ramble of mine.

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**Chapter One**

In which Pip makes a fool of herself

It was a warm evening in early summer. Pip rested her head on the window frame and watched the sky darken and the shadows in the garden deepen. Curled on a cushion in the small wood paneled "private room" she felt calm and content, she wouldn't be too unhappy if this moment continued forever. But it couldn't; sounds, the rise and fall of voices, laughter, music, floated in from the ballroom just outside, eventually she would have to go back to the party. Normally she could and would just float away after a half-hour's appearance, but this was Anna and Tamerov's private engagement party, as a good friend she shouldn't just disappear, however much she may want to.

Still, she had earned a few moments rest. She had helped plan the party which was officially hosted by Tamerov's aunt and stepmother. Neither of them knew Anna well and they couldn't well ask her to plan her won party, or ignore her tastes entirely, so they had approached Pip for help with the basics, and when Anna and Pip as her best friend had been invited to Tamerov's estate in Savona Pip had somehow ended up continuing to help. In a say Pip was glad, her help now meant that she could be excused from helping with the much more formal official engagement party that would be held later at court and which would certainly be much more unpleasant than the "family" party. Family was in quotes, most of the nearly two hundred people invited were not part of Tamerov of Anna's families at all, at least not directly. From what she had seen poking through the family histories nearly all of the noble families in Remalna had intermarried at some point in the last four generations. Even Tamerov and Anna were distantly related. Anna was distantly descended from the Calahandras family and Tamerof's father's mother's father's cousin's wife's mother had been the last of that same noble line. Interestingly enough, or at least to Pip, Tamerov's stepmother was the great granddaughter of that same last Calahandras. Plus since Tamerov's stepmother happened to be the Marquis of Merindar's aunt, not only was the Marquis the great great grandson of the last of the Calahandras, but it made him step cousins with his best friend Tamerov. This for some reason was endlessly entertaining to Pip, and she gazed out at the now dark garden being entertained for a moment until someone came in from the ballroom. She turned startled, and cursed and blushed simultaneously as she recognized the surprised Marquis of Merindar himself. Of all the blasted people to interrupt her daydreaming during a party at their expense- why must it be him! "I do beg your pardon- I had no idea anyone was in here, you were so quiet…"

"Oh, no," she stammered, "I should get back anyway; I just got wrapped up in family trees." Drat! Bad move Pip- very bad, now you're going to have to explain yourself to him. Stupid! Why do you never say the fight thing to him? What can you do to fix this?... Anna and Tamerov- that's it! "Tamerov and Anna are both descended from the Calahandras family did you notice? Getting up off the cushion, "I hadn't until just now." A lie, but it made it all more plausible and less like she was talking down to him, 'did you notice, no? well I did' But darnit he was between her and the door- she hoped her cheeks weren't as red as they were hot- this whole thing was very bad…

"Well as Tamerov isn't directly descended I don't think that will stop the marriage." He was laughing at her, but as long as the conversation rested on Tamerov and Anna instead of him or her she was fine.

A forced smile and an almostlaugh, "I don't think anything would stop them now." Good good- they were off family trees and onto the engagement.

"I won't deny I don't agree to that" he had finally turned away as if looking through the door back to the ballroom and it's guests of honor.

Pip relaxed a little, "they are very lucky, "not thinking of them at all.

"Yes, he responded still looking away and just as detachedly as Pip, "they certainly are…" and then suddenly they both recollected themselves and "well I didn't mean to keep you…"

And he stepped aside allowing her to escape with a nonsensical, "No, not at all, but I should you know reappear."

Later after the noisy brightness of the party had given way to the quiet darkness of her room she ran over the conversation again. Why hadn't she thought before she spoke? How much of what she wanted to hide had he seen? Why was she reduced to such transparent imbecility by him? Last summer she had only wanted to beat him in badminton. Now that she had she would be glad to never see him again. The way her obsession had ruled her was unnerving and she never wanted to have a repeat. Well, he was staying only for the week, he had reluctantly turned down Tamerov's invitations for a longer stay citing responsibilities fighting the bandits that had appeared in the Merindar forests that spring. And her great uncle had requested her presence with him as soon as her stay in Savona was ended. She would probably not return to court until the formal engagement party early that fall and even then not stay long. Her great uncle was old, and when he was gone she would take his place, something she still needed much preparation for. She hoped this would mean there would be few future run ins with the Marquis of Merindar. But oh- what a jabbering fool she had been! To talk of family trees with the guy who's family tree set him as most eligible for the crown, and yet whose best friend was named Prince instead because the last time a Merindar had sat on the throne had been legendarily disgusting. Oh poor tactless Pip! In so many ways unsuited for the task her great uncle was forced to bestow on her. And with many a sigh ad still burning cheeks Pip fell slowly asleep.

I was easy enough to avoid the irksome Marquis the following week, the estate was constantly swarming with people left over from the party giving the both of them plenty of things to do other than be in each others company. However as the week when on more and more of the guests set out for home causing Pip to curse inwardly when the Marquis announced the decline in bandit attacks and his subsequent decision to stay another week. Anna and Tamerov expressed their extreme pleasure and though Pip did not contradict them, she knew this next week would be harder to get thorough than the past one.

The first few days were fine, then came the awful day of the riding invitation. It all began that morning with a suggestion from Tamerov of going riding. Pip had no interest of doing anything with the Marquis in a group smaller than ten on in riding anywhere with anybody, so she ignored the resulting discussion and continued to eat her breakfast and think what a pleasant day it would be and if they were going to be gone and how much time she could spend writing in her journal. Then she began to think of how many pages one could write a day in one's journal before being considered excessive, and whether the number changed if one was writing all about a particular event or just writing pointless dribble about how one liked yellow flowers much better than red and why. She concluded that anything above three and a half pages a day was definitely excessive and it didn't matter what one wrote about, but if one was documenting very large of very important event, such as a grand party in which one made a new and interesting acquaintance. Then one could write up to six pages before being excessive. Then she began to wonder how many times she had bothered to document anything really important in more than three sentences, but as everyone was suddenly getting up she chose to stop wondering and instead to run up and get her journal and check. Which she did.

Sadly enough there were only a few occasions which Pip had bothered to document to an extent which their importance deserved. This she thought deserved some documentation, so she trotted down to the library which was the only place she was sure of finding a decent pen. She had just finished her formal documentation and begun on a curt admonishment to herself to write better when the badness began.

Something happened to the pen and it began to leave huge splotches of ink everywhere. In disgust Pip dropped the pen in the waste basket and dashed back upstairs to search for another one she was fairly sure she had let by her bed. She couldn't find it and when she came back to the library her heart did something not normal. There was the Marquis-

--With her journal!

Pip rushed over, "That's mine, I didn't mean to leave it there." All she wanted was to get it out of his hands and out of sight.

He didn't seem to be very sensitive today, "You wrote this?" he asked turning a page and looking up, "What language is it in?"

Ug! He'd noticed- drat drat and double drat! Now she'd have to explain- and boy did she not want to. Curtly, "It's not" bad track- better to play stupid- confusedlyish, "I mean its not another language or anything," add a smile and a little laugh- please don't have him take this seriously, "just a code thing Anna and I had a kids." Good, pull in Anna too, the last thing Pip wanted was for him to think this was the private thing it was. "I don't know where we got it from…" a lie, but anything to make it seem that she had less of a hand in it. She did not want him knowing he was looking at her private journal written entirely in a code she had make up and only she could read.

He was flipping through more pages- bad! "You can read this?"

Flippantly "sure."

"What does this say?" pointing to a quote from 'Philosophy of True Leaders' which she had thought was important.

Jokingly "what's the point of a code if you go around telling everybody what it says?"

One last look then, "I guess you're right," and her precious was back in her hands. "I came to ask if you were ready, Tamerov and Anna are out in the courtyard."

Uh-oh, "ready for what?"

"Riding remember? We talked about it at breakfast…"

Riding- she vaguely remembered something of the sort, but why hadn't Anna made her excuses for her?- Curses! She was going to have to excuse herself- and to the Marquis! This was not good. "Oh- I don't ride." Please go away now…

"Oh, but it's such a lovely day- come on."

"No, I couldn't…"

"You're not going to leave me all alone with those two lovebirds are you?"

This was really not good. "No, its not that I don't want to, its just that I don't." Really really not good. "Plus I have some correspondence that must be attended to, my great-uncle for one." And she'd be darned if she said anything else on the matter. He was going to speak again drat him. "You go have fun" get lots of exercise so that you come back tired tonight and won't want to talk about anything but how the horse threw a shoe and leave me in peace!

Finally he got the idea, and when he was safely out of the room Pip sank down into a chair. She slammed open her journal and stared at the blank page a moment before remembering she didn't have a pen. So she slapped the book shut again, but her head in her hands and wished silently that a band of mercenaries would crash into the library and run her through with their swords so she would never have to face the Marquis like that again.

The mercenaries did not come. Nor did they come when the mail delivered a curt latter from her great uncle hoping she was having a lovely stay and not to end it prematurely on his account, but that he could like her to come soon. Finally when cream of spinach soup was served for lunch Pip gave up on their ever coming. Pip really hated cream of spinach soup. Ad in in answer to her final release of hope it began to rain, and just as Pip came to the conclusion that even playing with cream of spinach soup was disgusting she heard the voices and general clatter of the three riders in the entryway. She got a maid to get rid of her soup and in a few moments Anna and then Tamerov jointed her with wet hair but dry clothes and appetites. It turned out that they like cream of spinach soup. Pip decided the world hated her and excused herself.

Outside in the hall she paused with her back to the wood-paneled wall to take a few deep breaths in a desperate attempt to restore some sort of balance to her squalling emotions. Whether or not they actually succeeded Pip couldn't tell, but the breathing didn't make the day any brighter, it was still raining heavily and there was still a lingering aftertaste of soup at the back of her throat, but she ceased to have the urge to break something which was on the whole helpful. And with this success Pip decided that the unpleasantness of the morning would be best remedied by an afternoon in a comfy chair with a novel, and so turned towards the library.

Alas, the horridness of the day was not ready to be remedied quite yet. Somehow- Pip was always a little fuzzy on how it happened one of the maids pressed her into taking a bowl of that horrid soup to the Marquis, who also, it seems, had decided to remedy his afternoon with a stint in the Library.

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**Author's Note**:

I have not put something up on in years, and am only doing so now for Anna's enjoyment and also to maybe procrastinate on my homework a little. I honestly haven't the foggiest idea when or if I will really update this. Goodness knows I really should be spending more time on that homework anyway. This is also my first (and hopefully only) Sherwood Smith fic. I keep trying to wean myself off these and onto true literature that my classes dictate I read anyway. Of course as you all know that never works anyway. But it's worth a try no? Anyway- my point- well, I guess my point is really that first sentence there- I don't know why I'm still writing...

-Nip


	2. Chapter 2

**I reiterate**- the place names, general customs and some other odds and ends are not mine at all but belong to the mind of the excellent Sherwood Smith. I am simply borrowing her ideas for this little burble of mine as I haven't the time or talent to create my own. Also I realize that this has some inaccuracies regarding the general customs of Sherwood Smith's Remalna, these are completely my fault, I just haven't figured out the best way to fix all of them yet.

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Chapter Two

In which there is some awkwardness

Pip entered the Library holding the hot soup grimly. Of all the places in the world this was one of the last she wished she could be, except perhaps in a famine, or a hurricane, or a war…never mind. "The maid said you hadn't had any lunch," no that made it sound like it was her idea to bring him food, bad, that was one of the last ideas she wanted in his head, except maybe how un-flattering her dress was, or ways to kill her, or… never mind. "She asked if I could drop this off on my way through" she added. Good brain, good nice fast thinking brain, way to save the awkward moment. She put the bowl on the table, and noticed an enormous map spread out. Pip carefully and quickly glanced up at the Marquis. He was bent over the map concentrating hard. "I don't have time-" he mumbled obviously involved with something much more important than sustenance. Pip turned her gaze to the map as soon as he spoke, afraid, deathly afraid for a moment, that he might look up and see her looking.

It seemed to be a map of Merindar and the surrounding areas. A battle map. Pip couldn't help it, she inched forward and tilted her head so she could see better. There were no markers anywhere, it was just a map. She glanced up at the Marquis again, questioningly, was he insane? No, that wasn't likely. All of a sudden he stood up, and Pip jumped startled, greatly startled, irrationally startled, by his movement. He turned quickly away from the map, taking out a letter and rereading parts of it carefully by the weak light from the windows. Pip turned back to the map, nice safe map that wouldn't misapply looks one gave it. It was a map of Merindar, and the area that the Marquis had been fixated on was off in one of the heavily forested areas by the boarder, the only distinguishing feature was a long broad valley. Suddenly it clicked- the bandits- they must be striking the villages in the area. Villages in a forest, by the boarder, prime material for bandits. Not a good sign. Pip turned to the Marquis. He was muttering to himself now. Muttering about armies, Merindar armies. "An army to fight bandits?" Bad bad bad bad bad- stupid Pip to talk without thinking. She did however manage to keep herself from clapping her hands over her mouth, which was a definite plus. The Marquis turned looking right at her. The split second before he spoke seemed like an eternity; Pip could feel her heart beat. She wished it wouldn't. "I do keep an army so that it can fight." Curses, he was pulling rank on her. Not purposefully, probably not even consciously, there was a half-smile on his face, he meant to be asking what she was saying, not to shut her up, but it was there, _I_ _do keep_ an army…_I'm_ a powerful person, _I_ can afford to keep an army, and who are_ you_ again? Well, he was right, Pip could feel her face growing hot, he was a Marquis, and she was a nobody, but she was still right, and darn it all, she was going to correct his mistake. "Brute force is the last resort, your grace." She didn't finish the quote.

"This basically is my last resort" He didn't seem to know the end, well that was fine, better than fine, in retrospect that was very good. Just because he had unconsciously implied pulling rank did not merit the end of that quote. Pip was pleased, and not pleased. He wanted a conversation- curse him- curse him to the bottom of- Pip's brain went into attack/panic mode. She gave up on thinking and just talked. "Still you won't take more than a couple ridings…" "I was thinking of four-" He moved towards the map. "They are hitting all along here and here," he pointed running a long finger along just above the marked trees, "So with four ridings they can go out in different directions. Plus, I already have two ridings out there, and they aren't doing anything really helpful." "That's because-" army against bandits never works. But she managed to stop herself. Luckily his mind was on a different track and so he finished, "-I'm here not there. I have to go in the morning," he turned back to the letter ignoring her, "this is foolish." Pip heartily agreed, but instead of saying anything, she simply left the library before she really managed to make a fool out of herself.

Pip planned to spend the evening quietly in her room. If the Marquis was leaving in the morning then she would not stay for more than a day more. Her uncle wanted her, and it would be nice to spend more than a hurried two days at the capital to finish her last affairs there. She needed to talk to the Rensare ambassador- she really should have gotten to know that man better when she was at court over the summer- now why hadn't she done that? Why not Pip? Were you too busy playing your silly badminton games to worry about the affairs of your state? You'll make a fabulous steward one day Pip, just wonderful, you with all your tact and forethought. Yes you who always handle a situation in perfect correctness. "Brute force is the last resort of the incompetent" that is simply the best thing to say to the powerful ruler of the Marquisate next to your poor principality. Especially when he already thinks you are some sort of obsessive socially awkward imbecile who hates him and only wants to beat him at badminton. Oh, that's right, an obsessive imbecile who still keeps a journal in a childish code and can't even ride. Yes, yes, what a wonderful steward you will make- what wondrous new depths of poverty and weakness you will bring to your country- no, not country, principality remember- you are not even close to these people's equal. Pip curled up on the bed and wished heartily and fruitlessly once more for the mercenaries to come and run her through once and for all.

It was dark and cold when she woke up. In addition she was stiff and generally uncomfortable as she had fallen to sleep in a tight ball on top of the covers still in her gown and shoes. She debated making a mental note to remember to undress and situate oneself comfortably before crying oneself to sleep, but then decided that she had had enough sarcasm and self pity for a bit and would achieve better results in the long run if she would shut that part of her brain up and get up and undress and situate herself more comfortably.

Which she did. Or at least she managed the get up part, but once up and wrapped in a blanket she really lost much of her drive to bother with all the buttons and laces of undressing right then, and so found herself drawn to the dark window. She stood next to it for a moment, breathing in the cool fresh outside smelling air, and looking out over the dark empty front drive, following the circle of it's pale gravel as it looped and then sped away to what must be greater and grander places. But what care I for those places when I am here, she asked herself, I have Anna here, and a bed with clean sheets, and well, as much peace as I normally get on a vacation. A bit of wind blew faintly rustling the leaves and making her think how cold it must be for the poor adventurous gravel. And the thought of the cold finally gave Pip the energy to turn away and pull the curtains.

The fire in the fireplace had burned so low that Pip stepped out into the hall to get a light. Of course there wasn't one and so she let her bedroom door swing shut behind her, easing it with her hand behind her back quietly, and set off down the corridor. The halls were dark and full of cold shadows when there were windows. The garden when she looked out at it from a tall stretch of glass looked frozen, the carefully manicured shrubs looked creepy, almost like dead things. Pip noted the happy track of her thoughts, but all the action really did was encourage them. She thought about sighing, but figured it would make too much noise, silence was important when roaming foreign halls in the middle of the night when you didn't really want to meet anybody. Oh Pip, she thought, oh Pip what are we ever going to do with you? Obviously the answer was to start playing the "What Would Happen" game. What would happen, she thought, if I just walked around all night and didn't sleep? She would be stupidly tired and regret it greatly the next day, plus everyone would think she was mad. What would happen if I threw a candlestick into the wall? Probably nothing. What would happen if I just went home now and never went back to court? My uncle would probably get really really ticked off, and Anna probably would too, though not as much, plus I could probably avoid her. What would happen if I just left, just took a horse tomorrow morning and rode off in a random direction changed my name and never came back? Probably end up cold and alone in the moonlight like the adventuresome gravel. Or have to go to the bother of making an entirely new life and then still be stuck with obligations, just not the same ones.

Pip looked up at the ceiling which had decorative plasterwork that cast delicate gray shadows all over it. Then she gave in and gave a little quiet sigh. Never in her life had she ever had a reasonable conclusion to the What Would Happen game. So she turned around, walked silently back to her room and changed into her nightgown, got under the covers and curled into a ball for warmth.

The marquis was just leaving by the time Pip was dressed and had come down the next morning. If she had waited an extra six minutes her timing would have been impeccable, as it was there were a very awkward six minutes of her standing in the hall surrounded by trunks and people who were all busily doing their jobs before she could troupe outside with Tamerov and Anna to see the Marquis off. She pretended to be much sleepier than she was so as to have to give an excuse for her being rather distracted and slow, said a very polite farewell to his grace, stood on the gravel drive for a few extra moments with Tamerov and Anna, and then went inside. It was all rather painless and almost anticlimactic.

The rest of the day pretty much followed in the same vein.

The carriage ride to the capital was unpleasant as usual with the slight added unpleasantness of the thought of the tasks that waited. For some reason Pip felt drained already and a bit lonely.

Anna had taken it as granted that Pip would stay in the Toarvendar House, and while Pip felt this a bit awkward she preferred staying at Anna's without Anna than trying to work something else out. It was full night by the time her carriage pulled into the drive, and Pip was glad (never mind the awkwardness anymore) to step out into the cool evening air, take deep breaths, and be shown to her room as if she was a grand Lady with an estate filled with servants. Problems could be left for the morning (that was such a liberating thought that Pip told it to herself several times and treated herself to a bath with some of Anna's rose soap. How she loved rose soap! And evening baths in a big tub where the slight breeze blew in through tall windows and made damp curls stick coolly to her cheeks and neck.) Never mind problems and awkwardness, those could be left until the morning!

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**Author's Note:**

I found myself needing to procrastinate a little more, and also to apologize for the unwarranted number of 'anyway's in my last author's note. So I have given you chapter two. I don't remember if you've read this already Anna- if you have I apologize profusely and all that.

PS- do tell me what you actually think of it- I know you know and like the plot- we've been over that one enough times already. It's the style I'm interested in…


	3. Chapter 3

**Again**: the world is the excellent Sherwood Smith's; the characters are mostly mine, as are the obnoxious mistakes that I'm working on fixing.**  
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** Chapter Three**

In Which There Are Some Other Languages**  
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Looking back later Pip was astonished that she was actually able to do what she had come to court to do. The Rensare Ambassador was duly called on the next morning. He really was a charming person. About the age of Pip's father when he died. Pip was apprehensive that morning. She procrastinated over the buttered toast and tea and over getting her papers together. But when she was ushered into his hall and heard his words of greeting she smiled and all the flutters went away. Oh was it good to speak Rensare again!

She was introduced to his children, and then they were sent outside to play while the grownups sat down to tea. It was funny that she was a grownup now, she thought as she gazed out the tall windows at the three children tumbling after a ball, eighteen years old and a grownup. Twenty one year old Anna was grown up- almost a queen grown up, but Pip! No- it was silly. But the Ambassadors face did not seem to share this humor. He set down his cup letting the china clink call Pip back to business. "The party I trust was pleasant?" Rensare could be a flowing flowery language if its speakers chose, the shortness of the Ambassador's words let Pip know the Ambassador was asking after Anna and Tamerov, and how her alliance with them was holding.

"It was lovely. Anna is such a dear friend of mine, she and Tamerov had me stay a few days longer than I had planned." That should assure him on that front. She momentarily debated mentioning the Marquis, but decided against it.

"Well that is good," his smile was fatherly, which Pip appreciated. Maybe he had followed her train of thought as she looked out the window. "And have you come here then with news of our Principality?" His words were relaxing a little.

"I was hoping you could give me some. I have spent so much of my time with Remalnan politics of late. But that is to end, the Steward wishes me home."

"I have heard of nothing exceptional, all things seem nice and quiet." They shared a happy smile and Pip took a sip of tea. Excitement was bad, quiet was good. There was a shout from outside, and both turned to the windows the Ambassador craning his head until he had a good view of the children. They were having a good scuffle that was all. "Which way will you be returning?" he asked letting the words elongate and singsong now that business was over, this would now just be conversation. They discussed roads for awhile, Pip doing more eating and listening than talking, her geography was taken from battle maps not traveler's roads. Also the little sugary cookies were very good. Finally the Ambassador asked a question that could not be answered with a yes or no and she was forced to admit her ignorance. Laughing he found a set of maps and spread them out; Pip rearranging the tea service to make room. "This here's Athanarel," he tapped one map you'll take this road here out at any rate, no other good ones going the right direction…" Pip's eyes watched his thick finger follow the lines of roads and tried to memorize the names next to the forks and crossroads he tapped. They soon found themselves at the edge of one map and the Ambassador shuffled through the others until he came to the right one. His finger continued to outline Pip's journey but she stopped listening for a moment. There was something about this… and then came the jolt of recognition. The Marquis map- if the Ambassador's map had terrain markings there would be the Bandit valley. A little unsettled Pip turned her attention back to the Ambassador and watched as his route advanced closer and closer. "I can't go that way." She blurted finally, "Bandits have been attacking all through here." And she ran her finger over the valley.

"Bandits- are you sure?" The Ambassador's voice was worried.

"Yes, I spoke to the Marquis of Meridar about it not two days ago."

"No," he muttered, "that just doesn't make sense." He bent over the map for a moment and then straightened up and tapped the valley. "It is odd that there are bandits here in Merindar, hut none just over the border in out Southern Provinces. It's not as if Rensare laws are much tougher, Bandits shouldn't care about political borders, unless their agenda is somehow political.

Political!? Pip stared hard at the ink lines depicting roads and borders, political bandits in stable Merindar? The ink lines wiggled as her eyes rebelled from hard staring and teared up. She blinked several times and the lines stabilized. Suddenly the silence was deafening- the Ambassador wanted her to say something- well she didn't know what was going on- how could she say anything when she didn't have the faintest idea of what was going on? So she just said, "political agenda?"

The Ambassador sighed and tapped a teaspoon on a saucer. "Sure, such as they are really Rensare who have turned Bandit but still identify enough with Rensalaeus that they only wreak havoc in Merindar. Or they are somehow in agreement with one of the Southern Lords and so do not attack his people."

"Is that possible?" Pip remembered why she hated politics.

"Nah," the Ambassador shook his head much to Pip's relief. "The lords have no reason to deal instead of arrest." He rubbed the teaspoon in a puddle of tea, "It's funny though," he said thoughtfully and looked at Pip who was staring mesmerized by the teaspoon. "Maybe you should take that road home and see what you see. If it involves Rensalaeus we need to know about it.

He was very right and Pip knew it- still- "What about the danger…" she trailed off. She was no practiced spy and were something to happen to her her Great Uncle had no other heir.

There was another moment of silence as the Ambassador thought and Pip stared at the map. "I have a uniform you can wear. Riding as a Rensare runner you should be relatively safe." Pip did not like this idea, she did not like endangering her life, she did not like traveling alone, she did not like the thought of having to effectively lie if she got caught, goodness! She didn't even ride! Weren't there other people who could do this? The Ambassador was looking at her and she realized her mouth had gone tight and her eyebrows had squinched together. She forced her face to relax which actually took quite a bit of effort.

"Look," The Ambassador said before she could speak, "I strongly doubt anything is wrong, especially if the Marquis already knows about it. I'm sure by now he's gotten everything under control. That happens to be the best way for you to go anyway with the construction on the River Road. Just keep your eyes open." Pip nodded, he was right, they lived in peaceful times, people traveled everyday and nothing came of it. It would even be a nice way to travel, she made herself think, fresh air, no stuffy coach, just because she hadn't ridden in years didn't mean that she couldn't have a nice ride home through the countryside. It would even be significantly quicker, provided she remembered how to post… "Just think of it as an adventure," The Ambassador said conspiratorially, "disguised noble lady speeds across the country to foil an assassination attempt saving king and crown." Pip laughed and poured herself another cup of tea. For all his jollity the Ambassador made sure she knew her route and had the runner uniform before she left.

Pip left Athanarel very early the next morning dressed as herself. The evening before she had realized that she didn't even know where she could borrow a horse from and had had to ask the housekeeper of the Toarvendar house. This whole debacle had caused so much general embarrassment that Pip had decided to leave so early the next morning that hardly anyone would be around to cause further embarrassment on her poor riding. Even early however, there was activity in Athanarel and Pip was very glad when she let the city behind and started riding through country.

At the first deserted looking stand of trees Pip changed into the runner uniform. She had debated just stopping at the nearest inn, but the thought of the inn people letting in a lady and letting out a runner seemed a bit too conspicuous and gossip-inducing, so the stand of trees it was.

The night before she had come up with her story, and was rather pleased with it. She was a Rensare runner (hence the uniform) who had just gotten over a rather bad injury (hence the bad seat) and was making her way back home (hence the direction and general slowness). Pip just hoped to goodness she wouldn't have to use it, she really was rather bad a lying to people she didn't know.

Fortunately she hardly met anyone on the road and no one that was in a conversing mood and so other than a rather overcast sky she deemed the day a success. She'd even remembered how to post for the most part. Just as the dusk was beginning to settle she rode into a town, but she kept going past the big Inn and Tavern. It just looked and sounded a bit too lively. Plus she reasoned there was still some light left and she could easily make it another couple miles.

The extra couple of miles were duly rode and only a few minutes after she began to notice the dark and be uncomfortable with it a light shone ahead which proved to belong to a nice clean simple way station. A group of boys broke up a game of dice to take care of her horse and she was directed into a large warm kitchen. There in a great chair set by the fireplace presided the Mistress, and once Pip had settled the price of a bed, a stall and a meal with her the great woman ladled out a bowl of chunky stew and dismissed Pip from her presence. Pip was happy to oblige since the mistress' appearance reminded her much of the formidable farmwives of her childhood, big boned, strong and In Charge. The room held but one big table to sit at and there were already a couple of very burly looking men established at the end furthest from the Mistress' chair so Pip chose a seat nearly exactly half way down. It was by definition a rather awkward position, and had the room not been so cozy and Pip not quite so exhausted and elated by her long day's ride she would have felt rather uncomfortable. But it is as much attitude as things themselves which create awkwardness and so Pip worked away at her stew quite unconcernedly.

It was this unconcern which then started things really working in Pip's favor. The Mistress had wondered a little at Pip's slight confusion, runners spent a great deal of their time in way stations and were rarely confused, but once she was how unconcernedly the pale little runner sad down and ate, she turned away. This was very fortunate for only a few spoonfuls of stew after the Mistress' attention had returned to her half knitted sock, then every shred of Pip's unconcern dropped away. The burly men were speaking conspiratorially with each other, in Denlefi.

Their words oozed over Pip slowly, and when she finally realized exactly what she was hearing she became very very frightened. Pip would be the first to admit that she was not particularly brave. Sure she liked to make up stories where she saved everyone and did grand heroic things but she knew very well, and had for longer than most people her age, that she really wasn't cut out for that sort of thing. She liked very much to have unpleasant things done for her. And for Pip even small things like making introductions, going about and getting new clothes and asking for directions counted as unpleasant. Doing something about the very burly men who where discussing large numbers of military personnel in Denlefi was really quite a new level for her. Then of course, for such things really do happen in the world, all her fear melted away and she made the decision to continue eating unconcernedly and see what she could find out.

* * *

AN- Thank you all my lovely reviewers! I had honestly meant to put up this chapter months ago and then never realized that I hadn't. I really don't have much good written directly after this, and in fact I'm not too pleased with the end of this chapter either. Oh well, sometimes it goes that way. 

I've tried to paragraph a little more this time and keep out silliness like wood doors, chairs, tall tables and candles. I've got to go back and fix all those mistakes in the first two chapters (as well as see if I can sort out that family tree). If I have time (which is doubtful in the near future) I'll try to come back and fix it up a bit. This story is mostly an experiment and a place for me to go when I'm not liking the rest of the world so don't expect an update for awhile. Just a warning.


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